


I Wanna Be Able to Touch You

by merrabeth



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Misfits AU, No Condoms, Smut, kinda cheesy in the beginning, not for long, not gonna lie, sorry - Freeform, they got super powers, well not mickey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 06:13:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2840996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrabeth/pseuds/merrabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey had always been a bit promiscuous, making the most of the time he snuck away from his father whenever he could, and he wasn’t one to back out of anything. That very trait carried on into the ‘power’ that flowed through every inch of his skin…tenfold…to the point of downright fearful. Any skin to skin contact with him could lead to sexual desires that were raw lust, pure uncensored desire and imagination- all whether Mickey wanted it or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Wanna Be Able to Touch You

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't really been in the Christmas mood, so I decided to write somethin' for Christmas Eve.

Mickey didn’t skip, and he was even safe to assure anyone that he wasn’t know ledged on how to move in such a way, but with all the joy he was filled with in that moment, anything was possible.

It was a very Merry Christmas indeed, for the young misfit had struck gold in a metaphorical sense that would change his literal being entirely. As he walked back to his loft where his boyfriend, Ian, had been waiting, he stumbled upon a discarded flier that held no interest initially minus the cartoon turtle on it. It read of a guy who could take away the storm-induced powers- but maybe some insight is well due to understand Mickey’s current mood.

He, along with five other miscreants, had found themselves in state-issued community service to work off their probation time. And with all the trouble Mickey’s gotten in with his 20 years of living, he was thankful to be getting off with having to clean the Chicago streets for six months.

So he worked diligently, not making a social session out of his time with the others, when a storm came. It wasn’t something Chicagoans were used to, with the blackest clouds rolling in, and everyone quickly knew to run. But what none were expecting was the lightning and blocks of ice (could they even call it hail?) came barreling down towards them. Their probation worker, in the midst of all the chaos around them, couldn’t get to unlock the doors to the community center in time, thus resulting in a mass lightening strike, temporarily taking out each and every one of them. But with a few short minutes, they all came to, the storm quickly passing and their every cell wired from the electric shock. They all should have been dead.

What came from the lightening, Mickey semi wished it _had_ killed him.

Mickey had always been a bit promiscuous, making the most of the time he snuck away from his father whenever he could, and he wasn’t one to back out of anything. That very trait carried on into the ‘power’ that flowed through every inch of his skin…tenfold…to the point of downright fearful. Any skin to skin contact with him could lead to sexual desires that were raw lust, pure uncensored desire and imagination- all whether Mickey wanted it or not.

From that point on, he went without touching others, always flinching back and staying out of contact from those he knew he couldn’t control whenever they came too close. And even after what all six of them had been through, trying to make it through the six months and finding solace in the most unlikely of people, Mickey still couldn’t find himself to ever really trust himself or others. Not even Ian.

                Ian had been in that group, doing time for accidentally setting ablaze a well-off home and getting time in a mental ward before being disposed to the city properly. When the storm struck him, he’d been given something he always felt fit him best: invisibility. In his family of six, he was the one to get lost in the commotion; in school, he could be at the top and still have people wander past him in oblivion, and it came to a point where that was his one and only thought at most points: to disappear.

And he got it.

But as was stated before, Mickey and Ian have been through a lot. And though they never thought they’d end up living in an apartment together 3 months after their probation had ended, it was the happiest either of them had been.

That is, until today, on Christmas Eve, when Mickey walked home quickly- because he didn’t know nor did he have any desire to do such a thing as _frolic_.

He ran up the stairs at the front of their building and rode the shaft all the way up to their spacious and abandoned loft. About 3 months ago, that space was completely empty minus the bed and the digital clock that hung on the side wall. But now there were pictures of their families, their unlikely friends they made while cleaning up Chicago, and themselves. A pathetic Christmas tree stood in the corner by Ian’s metal desk, shining the space dimly since there weren’t many lights on.

“Merry Christmas, Firecrotch!” Mickey chimed as he slid to a stop behind his boyfriend’s chair.

Ian swiveled around in his chair, and Mickey smirked at the confident grin on the redhead’s face. He barely remembers a time when that grin didn’t exist and Ian was huddled off, sweeping or painting away on his own. “Well, technically, Christmas isn’t until tomorrow.”

“Yeah, but I’m not gonna wait to give you your present tomorrow.” Mickey shrugged off his heavy winter coat and shucked it on the desk. “Stand up.”

Ian did as ordered, suspicion written on his face.

“And don’t freak out,” Mickey added, his tone a warning.

Ian smirked, confused. “Why would I freak ou-“ Mickey raised a hand to caress the freckled cheek and Ian moved away instantly, fear darkening his eyes.

Mickey chewed at his lip to hide his excitement. “This guy…he took away my power. The curse has been lifted!”

But Ian didn’t look all that excited. “How?” At Mickey’s shrug, he asked forward, “What is he gonna do with it?”

Another shrug. “Dunno, don’t care. It’s gone- oh! And,” Mickey dug in his back pocket and pulled out a nicely folded wad of money, “he gave me $500! Turns out, my power is worth somethin’.” Mickey laid eyes on Ian’s still worried expression, making him sober up a bit. He tossed the money on the table. “I wanna be able to touch you.” He emphasized the statement with another stroke to Ian’s cheek. His skin was so soft; Mickey’d never know that. Instead of letting his hand fall away, his fingertips roamed down further until they wrapped gently around Ian’s neck. He pulled Ian closer, feeling the tense muscles under his hand.

“I bet we’d have incredible sex.” Mickey’s voice had gotten lower and sultrier. “Don’t you wanna find out?” Ian nodded, trying to move past the worry and step into something Mickey was eager for. “Kiss me,” he whispered, already standing on his toes to shorten their distance.

Ian fell to it, a heavy breath released before he wrapped an arm around Mickey’s waist and pressed their lips together, soft and slow at first, merely testing the waters of how far they could go, before it became deeper, and tongues were added not soon after.

It’d been so long since he’d kissed anyone like this, honestly Mickey thought he could do this forever and be content. And on top of that, it was _Ian_.

He’d seen his boyfriend naked before, but being able to slip his hands under his shirt, to push and push at the fabric until it was gone, it was like Mickey was seeing him for the first time. The Christmas lights twinkled off his pale skin, only inviting Mickey in more to trail his hands up and down that sculpted torso his had the privilege to stare at for months.

Ian grabbed onto Mickey’s wrists, not to push away about to pull in his dark haired boyfriend to continue on kissing as he felt up as he pleased. But soon Ian was tugging at Mickey’s sweater and his shirt as well, heating up rapidly under the man’s touch.

“D-do…” Mickey took in a big gulp of oxygen he so desperately needed, “Do you need any…uh…pointers?” He knew his boyfriend couldn’t have had much practice in the time they started being together or whatever they called it at the time.

Ian laughed darkly, finally being rid of the clothing and yanking Mickey back with a firm grip on his hips till they were flushed together. “Trust me, I’m good to go.”

Mickey nodded, believing Ian as he wrapped his arms around his shoulders to drag him down for another sweet and heated kiss. Their lips stayed together as Ian backed them up to the bed, practically lifting Mickey up to shove him on and up the mattress.

Mickey watched as Ian crawled up his body, seeing a face similar to the one he had the unfortunate experience of seeing when he’d accidentally touched Ian before. But it was different now, because Mickey knew the look in those green eyes was only the doing of their mutual feelings, and he’s sure the desire was splayed on his face just as obviously as Ian.

Those green eyes traveled everywhere in seconds, effectively making Mickey squirm until Ian finally grabbed unto Mickey’s neck, his thumb caressing his red and swollen lips. Mickey held his breath as Ian studied his face, his eyes staying on his lips for so long that he shuddered in anticipation.

Ian finally reattached their mouths together, his hands soft and strong as the trailed down his body. Mickey couldn’t help the involuntary twitches that came with every inch that Ian touched. His hands made their way to Mickey’s jeans, undoing the zipper and pushing at his pants and boxers. Mickey helped him, arching up and kicking off the dreaded clothing. Ian settled in his boyfriend’s thighs, swallowing the breathy moan that he elicited.

Ian’s sweatpants were soft, and they would’ve done good to soothe him a bit if he didn’t feel Ian’s hard cock against his own underneath. “Off,” he said against Ian’s lips. But Ian didn’t listen, only went to kiss at other parts that he wasn’t allowed to touch before.

Mickey tried to reign in his breathing, feeling every soft peck and nips that Ian trailed down his body. He couldn’t tell if he wanted more of this torture or not.

Ian’s hot breath blew against his dick and Mickey grabbed at the sheets by his head, needing something hold him steady as he fell further for the sweet torturous movements from his ginger.

Ian watched at the smaller boy try so hard to keep control, enjoying the clench and unclenching muscles around him. He decided maybe Mickey’d had enough and settled his forearms on either side of Mickey’s hips, the pale legs bent over Ian’s shoulders, as Ian took Mickey in his mouth, slow at first before swallowing all the way down.

The noise was caught in Mickey’s open mouth for a second as he forgot how to breathe before he finally exhaled, the moans tumbling out with abandon.  He pulled at the sheets, his fingers unwilling to let go as Ian sucked hard and fast. His thighs snapped, muscles clenching hard at the amount of pleasure coursing through him. He bit at his lip to try and steady himself again as Ian’s tongue slicked the underside and pulled away. But he couldn’t control the ragged breaths that escaped him. He opened his eyes, peering down his body to see Ian with two fingers in his mouth, and a laugh wrapped those fingers.

Mickey glared, trying his hardest to seem in control. “I said I wanted to feel _you_.”

Ian took the properly salivated fingers from his mouth. “Oh you will, in good time,” Ian promised as he lowered himself again. “Even if we gotta go through this _all over again_.” He gave a quick glance to his boyfriend before settling back on his elbows with a challenge in his face. Mickey knew what Ian was implying- and it was fucking game on.

Mickey fell back to the mattress with a huff, staring at the ceiling with his heart pounding at his ribcage because what the fuck was Gallagher doing down there?

He soon got his answer when he felt one slick finger breach him, not stopping until the last knuckle. Mickey didn’t even hide the groan that slipped out. Ian’s fingers were slim but long, great for making out certain areas.

Ian swallowed Mickey down as he slipped in the second digit, and he had to hold down Mickey’s hips as they bucked involuntarily.

Mickey figured Ian wasn’t playing fairly, but he didn’t have enough brain power to think up an explanation as the vibration from Ian’s moan and the crook of those long fingers hit a bundle in him he hasn’t felt in so long. With a cry and gasp of Ian’s name, Mickey shot a hand to lace through those red locks and drag him away from any further sweet anguish he could put Mickey through. Ian hovered over Mickey, his lips spit soaked and red, and his face and shoulders flushed with red. Ian’s fingers were still stretching him out, pumping and teasing over his prostate.

“How does it feel so far?” Ian asked against Mickey’s neck as his ministrations got harder and faster. Mickey couldn’t answer, but only grab at Ian’s shoulder, clawing away to tell him to get a move on before he exploded so nicely and this was all over.

Either Ian understood, or he was done with tormenting Mickey. He’d been so heated by watching Mickey turn to mush under him, he had to keep this going before he exploded himself.

Ian scrambled at their nightstand drawer to find the pretty full bottle of lube and fumbled to squirt a generous amount on his hand. When Ian went to slick himself up, Mickey yanked at Ian’s head to bring their lips together again as he helped Ian out with getting him ready, making him harder than Ian thought he could be. He was torn between swatting Mickey’s hand away and letting him continue, but ultimately decided on continuing.

Their lips stayed attached as Ian slid in, making note to go slow for the retired bottom his boyfriend was (and because it’d been a while for him as well and Mickey felt so good and so warm). Once he’d slid in all the way, he stayed deathly still until Mickey’s arms slinked around his neck and his legs around Ian’s waist.

“Move.”

Ian moved gingerly at first, pulling out to the head and sliding back in slowly with a kick at the end of his thrusts. He could hear Mickey’s breath hitch with every thrust, and he wanted to pull those noises from before out, so he quickened just a bit, resting on his forearms.

Mickey’s hands felt up and down the plain of Ian’s back, stopping at every muscled that tensed as his hips worked, thrusting in and out. He felt Ian adjusting, moving in increments and Mickey’s eyes rolled back in his head when he was sure Ian hit the spot he was looking for. A whimper came out as his grip around his boyfriends waist tightened.

Ian crumpled as he felt Mickey tighten around him suffocating in an amazing way, and he began to go at a punishing speed, pounding down Mickey into their mattress. He moved to kiss at his skin, licking at the sweat that formed at as neck as he hammered away.

Mickey bit at Ian’s shoulder, trying desperately to muffle the moans and groans and cries but failing as Ian went harder and the air around him got thinner. Each thrust knocked the breath out of him and he was hanging onto Ian for dear life. When he felt Ian’s hips start to stutter, he let one hand slide between them, trying to head for his leaking unattended member. But Ian had other ideas as he snatched Mickey’s wrist to lay his hand above his head on the bed. The next whimper as unabashed, and so was the begging that came along right after.

“Ian…Ia- _please, shit!_ I need to…fuck, I’m gonn-“

Ian smashed their lips together, taking Mickey’s other arm and holding it above with his other hand; his long fingers crept up his hands until they were entwined, and Ian pressed their bodies together as he sped forward, hard and precise.

It was the feel of Ian’s hard abs rubbing against dick, the feel of Ian’s tongue with his and his teeth nipping at his bottom lip, the feel of Ian moving inside him like he was made for it; all of Ian and the feel of Ian set him over the edge, crying out moans and sobs against Ian’s lips as he came hard and long.

Ian kept going, finding his own end in the insufferable grip Mickey had around him. He finally stilled, dragging his teeth along Mickey’s bottom lip as he let Mickey milk him for all her got.

They breathed heavy, staring at each other and reveling in the marks they made. Ian sighed and took Mickey’s wrists to wrap his arms back around Ian’s neck as Ian let his forehead rest against Mickey’s.

“So,” Ian breathed out, “you never answered the question?”

Mickey made a noise, his mind still too muddled to form words yet.

“How does it feel to feel again?”

Mickey opened his eyes, the blue boring into green before he lifted to give a soft and slow kiss on Ian’s already abused lips. Ian took it as an answer and settled into the nape of Mickey’s neck.

“Merry Christmas to me, too,” Mickey mumbled as he felt the electricity buzz his every cell, just like how it did in the beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing smut at 5 am in fear of my dad finding me. I deserve some credit amiright? haha


End file.
